Painted Plastic

I didn’t grow up with porcelain faces
But instead painted plastic
I always wondered what it’d be like
To care for something so beautiful
Would I be different if I had?
Or would you break like everything else I touch
I am like Midas, change on my fingertips
But my fingers do not create gold
I create destruction and despair
Nothing good comes from these fingers
So maybe its good I didn’t grow up with porcelain faces
But with, instead, painted plastic.

-Mahogany Etchings

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Tucked Between

My joy is the long fingers tucked between mine.
No space between to give room to dark clouds of doubt.
Squeezing, grasping, to keep my demons out. 
I guess this is what you could say my love is.
Not a person, not flesh and soul though intertwined, but my heart resting comfortably in the embrace of yours, oh so kind. 
Perhaps one day my dreams of my heart being not only comfortable, but joyous too, are reachable and attainable.
Yearning for another, the need so strong, compulsion so forceful.
Those feelings are not dark, but bright and colorful.
The same kind that make you choose to run and make your sensible mind scream “be careful.” 

-Mahogany Etchings

Monsters

Some people have monsters deep inside
for some they aren’t that deep
Some people keep them locked inside
and others let them free

Where did the come from…
are we born with them?
Maybe we created them…
or maybe others created them in us

I’d like to think my monsters aren’t my fault
but I think I know… at least a few are
I’d like to think that when they escape, it’s not my fault
but I know… and I know, this time for sure, it is

And the worst kind of monster is the one who lets them escape

-Mahogany Etchings

The Truth of the Monster

I thought I had found the man, third time’s the charm right?

You looked at me with something in your eyes – something other than lust.

Wanting something more than domination, manipulation, and control.

But you ripped me apart, leaving a bloody mess.

 

I became yours for the taking – I felt dirty.

You never asked for consent and you didn’t stop when I said no.

Only physical force saved me – my physical force.

Once again I was violated by a man who wanted to be a pastor.

 

I blamed myself for every girl after me – every one who you hurt next.

But I wouldn’t let the monster of what you did escape from my lips.

I wouldn’t let the bile rise up – I swallowed it down.

I prayed that the others are fine and that no more will be hurt.

 

I justified what you did to me and to them.

Over and over I justified the things you did.

But then some days my head is clear from your grasp.

And I know – I know that what you did can’t be justified.

 

So one day my mind was crystal clear.

And I made my choice in that clarity.

Phone calls were made and cars were borrowed.

A long night in the police station after hours.

 

So I told – I opened my mouth and the monster came out.

The dark mess came out slowly, then all at once, like bile I couldn’t keep down.

I told the police but I didn’t want charges.

I wanted a record for those after me, for those who might come.

 

But then I went back and I told home – our home – yours and mine.

Because even there I needed there to be a something for those to come after me.

I knew there were some to come – I was the frontrunner.

I was the trailblazer for those hurt by you.

 

I told and the monster came out in our home.

Bile rising up – tears pouring out.

I spoke those words you begged me not to.

The truth burned out – I don’t know if even I could have stopped them.

 

In the end even you – even you admitted it.

No punishments happened to you, not a single one.

And I was the one who received the backlash.

Maybe that was the truth of the monster.

Bethany

You Held My Heart

I thought it was my own, and that I kept it for myself

but I was wrong, because someone else had it

You held my heart with your own hands;

long fingers wrapped around the beating mass

Claiming it-taking it as your own

squeezing it-shooting pain into my chest

I became a puppet to you;

you were pulling on the strings

A puppet for you to  break, hurt, or destroy

as you pleased

In the end I was destroyed;

because you held my heart.

Bethany

Here’s to My Sun and The Girl Who Tried To Cover it Over

 

Do I miss missing you?

I missed you

I missed you until I realised

you considered me the hurricane

and I missed you until

I realised you

eclipsed my sun

so the darkness could perennially hold me

and I missed you until today

until I realised I deserve better

than moody days and teary nights

I missed you when I knew

you thought the worst of me,

but now we have bad blood

all over our hands

and the wound has festered

and I realised you were the salt

all the pain was because of you.

It wasn’t healed by you because you don’t even know

how to heal yourself.

I missed you then,

but how can I now,

knowing that?

Jo

So this is a poem written by a girl about my best friend Serah, because she decided Serah was “too depressed” to be friends with. She went on rants and raves about how Serah was a manipulative selfish person, when Serah sent this girl $200 to help pay her rent and was always, always there for her no matter what. She refused to take her poem down, even though I asked her very kindly, and instead of answering me, she decided to go on a rant about how people should just not read it if they don’t like it. However I find it to be slander. So here’s my response.

Here’s to My Sun and The Girl Who Tried To Cover it Over

Here’s for you
because you deserve more
You deserve more
than to be left
You deserve more
than to be blamed
for what you can’t control
You are kind
and so selfless
Lioness roaring
so strong and beautiful
The girl who taught me
I was beautiful and deserving
Who stepped in
and became my mother
Protective and loyal
how you do it
I can’t fathom
You have been to hell
and back
Nothing has broken you
when many would have fallen
long before now
Here’s for you
the girl made of love
So here’s my response
my reply
About the girl who gives it all
to the girl who gave her nothing
but hurt and pain
The girl who became
the bully on the playground
Pushing those they liked around
because they can’t handle
what they feel
Who was truly toxic
not the other way
Who was too selfish
to be there for those in need
And blamed everyone
but themselves

So here’s to the two
friends once but no more
To the two on opposite sides
one compassionate
The other unable
to feel the empathy
like a friend
Here’s to the two
the wrong and the right
The green toxin
and physical representation of love

Bethany